


Chilly Mirrors

by Fifth Avenue (Chrysler)



Series: The Count Frigost/Harebourg Collection [1]
Category: Dofus, Wakfu
Genre: @Sheepishandsleepless, Commissioned Work, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6933205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrysler/pseuds/Fifth%20Avenue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Commissioned work) Djaul leaves Harebourg with a gift of a doppelganger to keep him company when he's gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Creaking

**Author's Note:**

> Fic commissioned by Sheepishandsleepless of Tumblr - http://sheepishandsleepless.tumblr.com/

To say that the last few months had been trying would be an understatement. The day had been just a procession of frustrations and nothingness. Harebourg’s position in Frigost was one in title only now - a joke in poor taste, a grim reminder of happier times. Djaul’s presence made things exponentially worse. Harebourg didn’t have the misfortune of seeing him every day, but today he could not have avoided the beast had he tried.

Without even undressing, Harebourg entered his room and headed straight for his bed. This was the only place that felt even remotely like his own anymore. Even so, the walls felt awfully close around him now.

Harebourg twisted his hands in his sheets. He swore under his breath and pulled so hard that the fabric made stuttering, tearing sounds like it might rip. He heard a different sound then, too - one that made him pause. It sounded a bit like animals moving under the floorboards. That was terribly unlikely. There wasn’t much in Frigost that wasn’t frozen solid.

Harebourg listened for a while longer, then dismissed the sound as his imagination. Perhaps he was going mad. He would hardly be surprised. Harebourg returned his thoughts to his frustrations. He tried to reconcile them, take a deep breath and just push them all away. It wasn’t going to work, but it was what he was trying to do when something shot out from beneath his bed.

For just a moment, Harebourg scrambled to get to his feet. It didn’t quite work out for him as something slammed down atop his body. It was roughly his height and his weight. Wild eyes gleamed down at him through thick bandages.

“Who are you?” Harebourg demanded.

“Shh,” hissed the person atop him. “You’re fine. Just fine.” This sentiment was greatly undermined by the fact that this person was actively restraining him.

Harebourg continued to struggle, twisting and bucking his hips. None of it did him any good. He was hopelessly outmatched. Harebourg tried a different tactic. “Who are you?”

The man made a soft, thoughtful sound. “Count,” he said. “Frigost,” he amended.

“Count Frigost?” Harebourg repeated, a little too frightened to simply scoff at the name. He knew no Count Frigost. He knew no one lately, save for Djaul.

The man that called himself Count nodded. “Count Frigost,” he repeated. “I’ve been watching and waiting. You’ve been so… tense as of late, and it is my job to help.”

At the word ‘tense’, Frigost brought his bandaged fingers to Harebourg’s cheek. He had to draw them away immediately when Harebourg took that opportunity to struggle again. So Frigost was here to help, was he? Words from Djaul replayed themselves in Harebourg’s mind. He recalled something about a gift. Djaul had to go away for some time, and was leaving him a gift before he left.

Looking up at this thing pinning him down, hunger in its exposed eyes… It felt very likely that this was the gift in question. “I don’t need any help.” He needed none that this creature could provide, anyway. He tried his best to keep things civil, though. Having reason to suspect he knew its origins, meant he didn’t want to upset it. “Thank you,” he added, not meaning it. “Please go.”

Frigost made a ‘tsk’ing’ sort of sound. “I know what’s best for you,” it assured him.

Harebourg said nothing. Why bother? This thing had made up its mind. He looked up at it as it gazed down at him, it’s eyes moving over him, appraising him. It withdrew a hand from Harebourg’s shoulder but left a certain weight behind. Frigost had restrained him with magic. This thing was powerful. No surprise there, though it did serve to make Harebourg feel smaller, more helpless. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his breathing as Frigost removed the other hand and ran it down the length of his body.

There were quite a few layers of clothing between Harebourg and it. It seemed to realize that now, inclining its head, as if puzzling over this for a moment. Finally, its bandaged hand shot back into its clothing. Frigost produced a dagger from his cloak.

Harebourg gasped involuntarily, but Frigost only, ‘shh’d’ him again, pressing a finger to his own bandaged mouth, where lips should be. The next instant, he was bringing the blade down. Harebourg flinched, but he wasn’t cut. Frigost wielded the knife with precision. It cut through Harebourg’s chest piece like it was made of soft wax. It cut through shirt and through the waist of his pants. It stopped there, though, leaving him with most of his trousers and, of course, his bandages.

Frigost made a soft, thoughtful sound. His hand hovered over Harebourg’s body for several long seconds before dropping flat to his chest.

Harebourg shivered involuntarily. The thing’s touch was unexpectedly cold, almost as chill as the land itself. Frigost dragged his hand down Harebourg’s torso. His fingers began to warm, gradually, at the prolonged touch. “You like it,” he said, his hand stopping at Harebourg’s abdomen.

Harebourg swallowed and stared, determinedly, at the ceiling. He didn’t want this to be happening. He would have run away if he could. Saying anything of the sort felt too risky, though. Instead, he said nothing.

“You like it,” Frigost repeated. His hand went even lower then. It seemed a forgone conclusion that something like this was going to happen. Still, it got another yelp from Harebourg anyway. He rolled his hips, trying to nudge Frigost’s hand from his groin. “Hold still,” said Frigost, pressing down through the fabric. “I’m here to help.”

He was here to torture him. That was what he was there for. Harebourg knew it. Even so, he did his best to go very still. Who knew what this thing had been instructed to do if he didn’t play along?

Frigost used only two fingers at first. He rubbed slow circles where he assumed Harebourg’s member to be. He rubbed until he got a reaction, which didn’t take long. Try as he might, Harebourg couldn’t keep his own body from responding. This was not lost on Frigost. He didn’t remove his hand - not entirely. He did slide it down, though. Through fabric, his fingers pressed down at the sensitive flesh of Harebourg’s inner thigh.

Harebourg swallowed. He bit his bottom lip. He gave a moan in spite of his better efforts not to. This earned him a laugh from Frigost and a reward in the form of him rubbing harder.

The weight had gone from Harebourg’s shoulder. He was unrestrained now, and he hated it. He could have struggled again but, damn it, he didn’t want to. He was fully erect and Frigost’s hand kept grazing over Harebourg’s dick. It was only enough to tantalize, not set him off. It was maddening. Twice, Harebourg came dangerously close to outright begging. He restrained himself.

Frigost seemed to notice anyway. He wasn’t malicious like Djaul. That Harebourg was enjoying himself seemed good enough for him. He began to rub in earnest. Harebourg almost wished he would finish undressing him, take his actual cock in his hand and stroke him. It didn’t happen, and he didn’t ask. He focused on the pleasure, willing himself to come. As pleasurable as this was, it was still humiliating. He didn’t want it lasting any longer than it had to.

Frigost made a sudden movement downward. He used one hand to rip the bandages from his mouth. He descended on Harebourg, going straight for his throat. With abnormally sharp teeth, he bit bandages away. Frigost’s breath felt impossibly cold against Harebourg’s neck. He kissed, he bit, he sucked. All the while, his hand stayed between their bodies. Harebourg moved his own arm down to join him, touching himself, trying to push himself over that edge.

When Harebourg came, he cried out. His whole body tensed, shuddered, then went very still. Frigost drew his hand away. “See?” he said. “Isn’t that better.”

Harebourg said nothing. He was too embarrassed. He could feel his face burning red. This had been… unexpected. He much preferred this thing to Djaul. Even so… Harebourg opened his eyes to ask Frigost what came next. (Likely, nothing good.) Frigost had already moved, though - silently and softly. Harebourg just barely caught a glimpse of him slipping back beneath the bed.


	2. Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Commissioned work from Sheepishandsleepless) Hareborug finally makes something for himself to eat, but of course, Frigost still wants to assist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic commissioned by Sheepishandsleepless of Tumblr - http://sheepishandsleepless.tumblr.com/

Harebourg could not recall the last time he had eaten a proper meal. Occasionally, he happened upon something or another outside of his room to snack on. Sometimes, he found edible bits of this and that right outside of his door, left there as if by a pet - from that strange Frigost fellow, Harebourg supposed.

Even so, Harebourg’s days were growing more tiresome as he went through them progressively weaker and more lightheaded. He would need to eat a meal eventually, and today was as good a day for that as any other day.

Harebourg ventured downstairs to the food stores. The contents of the larder were frozen over, of course. No surprise there. Harebourg nudged through this and that, hopeful he would find something that was unspoiled and undamaged by the cold.

After several minutes of searching, Harebourg happened upon a bag of Frosteez and a side of dried meat. Both looked safe enough. He took them down from the shelves and began the arduous process of thawing the lot. It felt like a hassle for something that couldn’t possibly be that appetizing. He went ahead with it anyway. By now, he was feeling quite hungry.

It took a while, but Harebourg finally got his meal laid out on the table. Cereal soggy from the cold and dried meat were nothing terribly impressive, but it was very nearly a meal. The smell of it made his stomach growl in anticipation. Harebourg sat down, parted the bandages at his mouth, and reached for his spoon.

Harebourg stopped short when an arm snaked around his throat and pulled him back against his chair. He opened his mouth to yelp, but nothing came out. The air had been knocked from his lungs and there was too much pressure on his throat.

“You’re taking care of yourself,” said a familiar voice. It was Count Frigost. Harebourg could place the sound of him and the odd coolness of his touch. “I’m glad,” Frigost added. “But I can still help.” He loosened his hold on Harebourg.

‘That’s all right,’ Harebourg wanted to say. ‘Get out of here. I’m fine on my own.’ Unfortunately, the choke hold Frigost had put him in left him coughing. By the time he had caught his breath, Frigost had seated himself atop the table. He was hunched low like a wild creature, back curved, shoulders slumped. He had taken the spoon in hand and dipped it into the soggy Frosteez.

“Let me help,” Frigost repeated, moving the spoon toward Harebourg’s mouth.

Harebourg cringed. He knew giving in to Frigost was easier than fighting him. Besides, he was starving. He didn’t have the energy to fight. Giving in, he opened his mouth, allowing Frigost to feed him a spoon full of cereal. Harebourg chewed and swallowed. It was about as appetizing as it looked.

Frigost dipped the spoon into the cereal again. He looked at it thoughtfully for a moment before raising his free hand to part his own bandages. He tried the cereal himself. “Mmm.” Frigost’s tongue darted over his lips. His eyes moved back to Harebourg, and he smiled. “Mmm,” he hummed again.

The spoon was filled again and guided back into Harebourg’s mouth. Harebourg scarcely had time to swallow before another mouthful was shoved in. “Wait,” Harebourg tried to say between bites, but Frigost seemed determined. He continued with one spoonful after another until Harebourg was coughing. He tried to swallow. Spitting anything out seemed entirely too disgusting. He couldn’t keep up this pace, though.

Fortunately, it seemed that Frigost had grown bored of cereal. He was looking at the dried meat now. It was pingwin flesh - not particularly appetizing on the best of days, especially unappetizing now that Frigost was the one cutting into it with a fork. He brought a strip of flesh to his own mouth first. He didn’t swallow it or even chew it. He rolled it around on his tongue, sucked at it thoughtfully.

Still sucking at the meat, Frigost cut off a second strip. This one he fed to Harebourg. He used a fork to push it in. Harebourg opened his mouth to allow it. He brought his teeth down on the meat, but Frigost kept pushing. He pushed the meat further and further in, until Harebourg could feel it bump against the back of his throat. He gagged.

Frigost chuckled. “We’ll have to work on that gag reflex later, hmm?” He laughed again, speaking around his own mouthful. He flipped the meat in his mouth with his tongue a few times, still watching Harebourg. Finally, he dropped the fork and slid from the table. He moved around Harebourg’s chair.

Harebourg cringed, waiting for whatever came next. No doubt, it was nothing good. Frigost’s presence hardly ever meant anything good. Spending time with that thing was maddening at best, terrifying at worst.

There was only stillness and silence. Harebourg ceased his cringing. He looked over his shoulder, left then right. There was no sign of Frigost. Harebourg hadn’t heard him leave, but he certainly didn’t appear to be in the room. Was that it? Harebourg supposed it very well could be. Frigost was of a very mercurial nature. It wasn’t unreasonable to assume he had just gotten bored.

Harebourg looked back at the food before him. It was less appetizing than it had been before, but he still found that he was rather hungry. For all his efforts, Frigost really hadn’t managed to feed him all that much. As was usually the case, Frigost’s “help” had actually been more of a hindrance.

Harebourg sighed. At least he seemed to be alone now. Despite the state of his home and the land it stood on, solitude was coming to be something he much preferred to the… alternative. He looked down at the remaining cereal and meat before him. He picked up his fork.

Suddenly, Harebourg was grabbed from behind. He dropped the fork in surprise as a bandaged hand tightened around his wrist. Frigost moved around in front of him. He loomed for a moment then swept in, pressing his mouth against Harebourg’s so hard that it hurt. He kissed him - or, at least, engaged in some semblance of a kiss. His mouth moved around Harebourg’s mouth with a sensual slowness.

Something thick and heavy entered Harebourg’s mouth. A tongue? Harebourg tried to pull away, but there were Frigost’s hands again. He clamped them down over the sides of Harebourgs face. He twisted his fingers in the bandages. Tomorrow there would be bruises, Harebourg was sure of it. Right now, though? Right now he was more concerned about not suffocating.

There was something in his mouth, Harebourg realized. Something slid from Frigost’s tongue and onto his own. It tasted familiar - pingwin flesh and cereal, unchewed like it had been existing in some odd sort of pocket dimension rather than eaten. Harebourg tried to pull away with renewed energy.

Frigost let him pull back, albeit not by much. He gave Harebourg something not unlike a smile. “Good?” he asked, watching as Harebourg, reluctantly, chewed.

Harebourg looked away. The moment he had swallowed, Frigost’s mouth was back on his own. His tongue slid back into Harebourg’s mouth, cold and undulating. It was not to pass anything. This time, he merely kissed him. It was a strange kiss. It clouded his senses and felt, somehow, heavy. It was entirely too long until their mouths had parted.

“Kissing is better when you aren’t made of dust,” Frigost said to Harebourg as if musing aloud. He brought a hand to his cheek and drew his thumb, lightly, across the bandages around his mouth.

Harebourg couldn’t stand it any longer. He raised a hand and shoved Frigost off of himself. “Leave me alone,” he said, firmly. “Please,” he added. Antagonizing him seemed like an unwise move.

Frigost did not seem terribly upset. He watched Harebourg for a few moments longer, his head inclined, thoughtfully, to one side. Wordlessly, he stepped around Harebourg’s chair.

Harebourg turned, but Frigost had already gone. That he had “gone” entirely was unlikely, of course. Harebourg was beginning to suspect he was never truly alone in this place. What he wouldn’t give to be alone again…

Harebourg looked down at the food still in front of him. The majority of it was left. The cereal and meat both sat there, but now just laying his eyes on them left a bad taste in his mouth.

With a sigh, Harebourg left for his room. He had lost his appetite.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harebourg makes plans as to how to deal with Frigost, to perhaps convert them to a degree to be beneficial to him instead of being the harassment tool that Djaul made him so, but tonight, it was cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic commissioned by Sheepishandsleepless of Tumblr - http://sheepishandsleepless.tumblr.com/

Harebourg flopped down onto his bed, having returned to his room in an absolutely foul mood. His existence was a miserable one, he lamented, burying his face in his pillow. As if Djaul wasn’t enough to deal with, he had Frigost accosting him at every turn.

It was very cold just now. Instead of huddling under his blankets, Harebourg tried to focus on it. Inevitably, his thoughts turned from the cold to Djaul. It was difficult not to think about the reason for this cold.

Really, all things considered, Frigost was fairly harmless in comparison to the great beast that had landed Harebourg in this predicament. Harebourg considered the disparity between the two before dwelling further on his unhappiness.

Frigost was more creature than man. He was a being of magic, and magic could be controlled. That was a fascinating thought. Harebourg wondered if he could use that to his advantage somehow. Could he bend Frigost to his will? He was under the impression that Djaul had created that thing to torment him. Torment him he did, but maybe that could be remedied. Maybe Harebourg could enlist the creature, use him for his own needs and ends.

The idea was certainly an intriguing one. Harebourg mused on it some more. He would need to test his limits a bit. He would need to check his boundaries with Frigost, and see what he should and should not do around the thing.

All of this plotting excited Harebourg. It sent something of a pleasurable shiver down his spine. It had been so long since he had been able to really plot and mull over something. This might even come out in his favor. How exciting.

Harebourg made tentative plans. They were situational plans. If there was one thing he had learned about Frigost, it was that there was little predicting to be done with him. He would be much better off formulating very loose plans and adapting them to whatever that thing threw his way.

Part way through his scheming, Harebourg realized just how cold he was. It became rather distracting. With a shiver, he drew a blanket up around himself. It was still quite cold but preferable. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much for it when he got cold these days. You mostly just endured.

Eventually, Harebourg began to drift off to sleep. Maybe it was the cold or maybe all that scheming had just tuckered him out. Regardless, he was plotting one moment and the next was out like a light.

An interminable amount of time later, Harebourg woke with an odd feeling in his chest. Something felt off. He couldn’t quite determine what it was just yet, but something was… different in this room.

Suddenly, there was a weight on his neck. It was Frigost. He was cuddled up to him from behind, his head nestled in the crook between neck and shoulder. “What!” Harebourg began, startled. He tried to jerk away but Frigost, of course, held on.

“Calm down,” said Frigost. “I’m only here to help.”

Harebourg might have calmed down. That certainly would have been the most practical thing to do under any other circumstances. As it stood, this was his chance to test his boundaries. Frigost seemed to operate on set behaviors. That should make him quite simple to predict, really. All Frigost needed was a bit more information to work with. To that end, he continued to struggle, twisting and squirming. He did his best to extract his arm from Frigost’s tightening grip.

Frigost was strong. Supernaturally strong, perhaps. It didn’t matter. Either way, he was far more powerful than Harebourg. Still, Harebourg very nearly freed a leg. He tried to bring up a knee. He tried to use it as leverage to push himself off. He drove his heel down, and… kicked Frigost right in the shin.

Harebourg found his limit. Frigost reacted violently. The arms around Harbourg moved up around his throat. He put him into a choke hold.

Harebourg gasped - or tried to. He didn’t manage to get in much air. He flailed more erratically than before for a moment then went very still.

Gradually, Frigost lessened his grip to one that wasn’t quite so crushing. “I was just trying to help,” said Frigost, sounding horribly offended. “You’re cold, aren’t you? I can tell. You’re cold.”

“I have a blanket,” Harebourg managed, coughing a bit afterward. His throat was still very sore. “I’m fine.”

“Nonsense,” said Frigost. Still holding Harebourg from behind, he drew one finger down his cheek very slowly. “You’re freezing.”

Harebourg couldn’t really argue with him. Of course he was cold. He was always cold. He wasn’t sure what Frigost could do about that, though. “You don’t have much body heat to share, do you?” he asked. He didn’t have a firm grasp on precisely how Frigost’s body worked. To the best of his knowledge, he seemed perpetually cold, though - much like his namesake. “You’re just making me colder.”

“I am not,” said Frigost, sounding mildly offended again.

Harebourg realized that was true. Whatever was happening here was more complicated than Frigost simply being cold. It was like he was leeching heat from Harebourg only to give it back. It was a circular sort of process, and it was almost pleasant. Harebourg wasn’t entirely sure it was practical, but it was certainly more comfortable than he had been mere moments ago.

“I am helping,” Frigost said, stressing that point implicitly once more. “You just can’t tell because you’re under all that metal. Frigost grabbed Harebourg and maneuvered him into a new position. “I have to get you out of these clothes.”

“Wait,” said Harebourg, attempting to stop him. It was useless to try. As had already been thoroughly established, Frigost was far stronger than he was.

Frigost’s fingers worked around the clasps of Harebourg’s chest piece. He managed to get it undone and wrest it off. “There,” said Frigost,” sounding satisfied as he tossed it off to one side.

For a moment, Harebourg thought that meant he could keep his pants. No such luck. Frigost brought his legs up, pushing down at Harebourg’s pants with his feet. They were of the loose and baggy variety and came off easily. “Wait, wait, wait.” Harebourg reached down for his pants. He was blocked, of course.

Frigost wrenched Harebourg hands back. He made a tsk’ing sort of sound as he straddled him partially, stripping the last of his clothing away.

Harebourg cursed himself. Frigost was predictable. If Harebourg had any certainty of his habits, it was that he was about to be assaulted in some way. No one could possibly predict in which way. Frigost had strange appetites.

Left in only his bandages, Harebourg was colder than ever. He felt Frigost climb from atop him and took that opportunity to curl up on his side. His mind sped through horrible possibilities of what was about to happen. He waited for what came next.

Frigost gave a sigh. “You could have been warm by now,” he chided. “You always make everything so difficult.” With another heavy sigh, Frigost wrapped an arm around Harebourg from behind. With one quick jerk, he pulled him against his chest. He was warm. Frigost really shouldn’t have been that warm. Harebourg wondered if he was correct in his initial hypothesis - that Frigost, somehow, leeched heat only to provide it back.

It was difficult to say. Harebourg was no longer certain. Suddenly, Frigost seemed delightfully warm all on his own. Maybe this thing was more of a mystery to him than he had initially anticipated.

“See?” prompted Frigost, his breath oddly warm against the back of Harebourg’s neck. “Isn’t that better?”

Harebourg made a noncommital sort of noise. He didn’t want to encourage this sort of behavior, but at the same time… Well, he was much warmer now than he had been before Frigost came along.

Frigost must have been satisfied with that answer. He rose only slightly and only to grab up the blanket. He pulled it up over the both of them.

It took a moment, but this trapped the heat. There under the blanket, with Frigost just behind him, it was almost like the whole world outside wasn’t frozen.

Gradually, Harebourg found himself relaxing back against Frigost. Perhaps he would use Frigost for his own ends later… For now, he would just enjoy this.


End file.
